


First Rule of Combat

by JadedWarrior



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fight Scene, Fix-It of Sorts, Light Angst, Multiple Orgasms, Performance Art, Romance, Smutember 2019, Smutember 2020, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26563432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedWarrior/pseuds/JadedWarrior
Summary: When stunt actor Ben Solo needs to fill in the Kira role for the lightSword demo at GalaxyCon, he doesn’t expect the last minute replacement to be the girl who challenges him, infuriates him, the girl who takes him down.The perfect girl.The girl his mother schemed for him to meet.A Fight, Frak and Fix-It Modern AU Fic
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 27
Kudos: 158
Collections: Reylo Smutember 2020





	First Rule of Combat

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my contribution to Smutember 2020: Adrenaline Rush.

He didn’t expect the smart-mouth from the panel. Then again, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and he needed a someone to fill the Kira role since Bazine had got a better offer.

Supposedly, the girl had some sort of “martial arts” experience, according to the Con organizer who so enthusiastically informed him they found a last minute solution to his problem. Since the whole point of being at GalaxyCon was the lightSword demo and resulting tweets, Ben didn’t bother asking exactly what that “martial arts experience” entailed.

Because beggars. Choosers. The more he grew his social media, the more chances of him getting actual roles instead of doubling for stunts. Always a bridesmaid.

So he would spend the next two hour training some wannabe Buffy the routine Bazine already knew and cross his fingers this chick’s experience amounted to something more than condescending trash talk.

_“Well sure, that would work for you specifically. Most people here writefemale protagonist. That wouldn’t work in real life.”_

Apparently fictional combat had to be written realistic. And then he’d put his gigantic Adidas in his mouth by asking if she had ever been in an actual fight and thus became the asshole who had trolled somebody growing up in in an orphanage in some backwards hellhole.

Orphanage for fucks sake.

If she hadn’t stared at him as if he were a monster, he’d tell her all about shitty families. For now, he’d show her the routine and let her beat the crap out of him on stage tomorrow.

If she ever showed. It’s been more then ten minutes after Rose said she’d be here. And maybe a part of him was relieved, because he didn’t want to be reminded that he was an asshole every time he’d look into those hazel eyes.

She had to be cute as fuck too. Adorable in her oversized Kylo Ren T-shirt and dark leggings, with fifty seven colorful ribbons hanging on the lanyard between perky little breasts.

Fuck, he didn’t want to think of her breasts. Something else, anything, because he sure has hell didn’t need another fucking boner.

Of course that was the moment she made an entrance through the door closest to the stage. Or technically the entrance was made by Program Director Tico, all but dragging the girl into the empty auditorium.

“Sorry we’re late! Had to do last minute alterations to the Kira costume someone was willing to donate.”

“I’d really rather—“

Did... did she have an accent? He hadn’t heard it earlier, and fuck his life, why the hell was that hot?

“Rey. You know there’s no point if there’s no costume.”

Despite the irritation, Ben had to smirk at the completely baffled expression on that delicate face.

He knew her type. The type that took a few college courses, read a couple of soccer mom self defense blogs and thought herself ass kicker extraordinaire. Apparently one who actually got into fights in an orphanage, fuck his life, and he pushed away the sudden piercing of pity.

She sure as hell wouldn’t want his pity.

She sure as hell wouldn’t want anything from him.

She sure as hell wouldn’t want him staring at the dark tendrils of hair having escaped from the threebuns on her head (Kira much?) and teasing the tiny freckles on her skin.

He sure as hell wasn’t tempted to count them.

“Hey.”

Since she only raised her eyebrows and didn’t answer, Ben figured he didn’t need to bother with preliminaries. “Mitaka got lightSwords for you to try.”

That sweet mouth parted in an oh. “But.. “ She turned to Rose. “I thought you said I’d use a staff? I’m not nearly as proficient with a sword and—“

“Sweetie, you know the fight scene everyone’s dying to see is the lightSword one.” Sweet patient tone. “Ben will show you the routine and you’ll get it in no time. You’re a natural.” Then she swooped in for the kill. “I told you much this con means to me,especially since it’s my first year as director...”

She might as well fluttered her eyelashes.

“I said I’d do it.” A long exasperated sigh. As if working with him was such a favor.

And if sensing victory, Rose let go of the slender wrist she had been gripping. “ I gotta check in with the AV team—the hotel messed up. You—“ She turned that no-nonsense gaze on Ben and lifted up a finger. “Be nice. And you.” This time the finger pointed at Rey. “Don’t clober him until after the scene tomorrow. I’ll check in on you both in a bit.”

With that, Rose left, leaving Rey standing adorably awkward by one of the red curtains, just right of the stage.

Nope, not adorable.

She wasn’t adorable.

She was a pain in his damned ass.

Another deep inhale that definitely didn’t bright his attention anywhere near her chest had him moving stage leftwhere Mitaka spread out an array of lightSwords. “See which one...” but then he caught her expression.

Fuck his life, she sank her teeth into her bottom lip and all he could think about was how to make her do that naked.

No, he wasn’t going there.

“All okay?”

“Peachy.”

Whatever. She didn’t have to go on about different styles and “Ki energy” that had been inspiration for the Force. Too close to home with all that bullshit Luke had pushed at him for years.

“Just don’t love the idea of being watched,” she added and surprised him by at least trying for conversation.

“Could’ve fooled me.” He wouldn’t be a Solo not to ruin the moment.

The vulnerability that left her face so open disappeared, replaced by squared shoulders and a fierce expression.

Fuck his life, she was cute.

“The hell does that mean?”

Gods, that accent.

“You didn’t seem to mind being watchedwhile you droned on about the ‘realities’ of fight scenes.” She followed his hand movements as he curled his fingers into air quotes.

“Is that what got your panties in a twist?” That little laugh curled right around his cock. “Excuse me if I want credibility in fiction.”

“Yeah?”

Was it just him, or did her gaze slid over his body when he bent to grab one of the lightSwords?

“Put your money where your mouth is.”

He tossed her the saber and of course the fucker fell right through her hands and clattered on the floor. And if that golden skin flushed with color, he had only himself to blame for wondering if she would turn that same color writhing under him.

“Dude!” This from Mitaka, whose presense Ben must’ve blocked out. “These are three hundred a pop!”

“Shit. Fuck. I’m really sorry.”

Why was cursing hotter with then accent?

Then, “You couldn’t just hand it to me?”

Testing her, he stalked toward her, for once, happy about his freakish height.

And fuck his life, she didn’t back down, only raised her chin up as he towered over her. He let that moment stretch, looking into her eyes, noting the golden flecks dancing in a sea of hazel.

Then keeping his gaze locked with hers, Ben knelt and retrieved the lightSword. And on his knees, he offered her the prop.

Slender fingers brushed his and he could’ve sworn sparks went flying.

***

She knew the type, the “I’m so fucking gorgeous” with that deep voice and smoldering eyes. The “I got a scar cause I’m bad news and I’ll fuck your brains out and leave before you’re done screaming” type.

And if Rey thought objectively about the whole thing, she could admit the situation was her own damned fault for opening her mouth. But in her defense, this was her first conference, and first writing panel.

She might as well have threatened to kick him in the head with her stupid Napoleon complex (as coined by Kaydell the Super Roommate) rearing it’s ugly head.

And “head” was probably exactly what this asshole expected from every female who simpered at him during the panel.

Stunt Double for the Kylo Ren character of Galaxy Wars. Big tit deal with his muscular bod straining the fabric of his tshirt (who actually had arms like that?), and redwood frame that made one wonder if everything _down there_ was proportional.

Not that she looked. And if she happened to glance, it was an accident. Or better yet, for science.

Of course he’d talk about strikes and forms—with his bulk, he probably could win any brawl due to that massive body. Not that she was planning on getting into a fight with him. Nor wondering what he’d do with her if she would let him win.

And if Rey shivered when she took the laserSword from that gigantic hand, that had to be anxiety about performing (she always got like that before a belt test or a demo).

“All right, you probably saw the film.”

Of course he needed to point out he had been in the fucking movie.

“There’s three components: big movements in the first act, closer more detailed work in the second and again big movements in the third for the climax.”

 _Did he just seriously say climax?_ And because Rey was too busy not clenching her thighs, she blurted out, “Is this a fight scene or sonata?” And at his frown of surprise, she had to add, “Orphanages have teachers too.”

One of those giant hands pushed through dark locks of hair. Had she stood on a chair, she probably could reach that hair too.

“I said I’m sorry.”

Whatever, so he did. “You want to start?”

Over an hour later, she could admit the choreography wasn’t easy. Her shoulders sang from the force of the blows—and blast him, Rey knew he held back so not to overwhelm her. Why couldn’t he just be an inconsiderate asshole and show the bitchy girl how much stronger he was? Or at least gloat about it?

He simply went through the routine, counting off in that deep melodic voice, and Rey fell into the rhythm of following his call outs: block block turn; block, cut, under flow, slice. Thrust.

“Good, good, you got it.”

And she nearly shivered at the praise, except it was said so begrudging, as if a mere mortal like her couldn’t ever master choreography like that.

“You seem surprised.”

“Well, can you blame me?” Blast him, he barely looked winded, those chorded arms (since when were veins so hot?) gleaming under the stage lights. “I figured you were one of those ‘I took a semester of self defense and think I’m the shit’ types. And don’t even get me started on all that Ki Energy bullshit ”

“Anyone with a semester of self defense would fight better then this pile of bull crap we’re doing. And Ki bullshit is how I’d kick your arse in an actual sword fight.”

With the lightSword pointing to the floor, he dragged his tshirt up to wipe his face, and god, was that an eight pack? Nope, she wasn’t staring, she wasn’t even side-eyeing.

But he caught her looking anyway, and fuck that smirk, because he slowly pulled the black fabric back down over that impressive hard stomach with a happy trail leading down to..

“See something you like?”

He had to be mocking he with that low gravel voice.

She kept her eyes steady—was he really that big or did he stuff a sock in there?—then slowly, deliberately, dragged her gaze up over that muscled torso, that wide expanse of chest, over those full lips she’d love a chance to bite. Just to see what he’d taste like.

“Clearly,” she said, lowered into the fighting stance again, laserSword pointed at his throat. “One of us overcompensates for something.”

The snicker came from stage left where the sword guy fiddled with handles and buttons.

“Damn Sunshine. ”

She _hated_ being called that.

“You’re really asking for it.” Delivered in that velvet whip of a voice, the words made her shiver, and the combination of fury and this unwanted arousal really messed with her self control.

“You always assume anyone who contradicts you secretly wants to bang you?”

“Is that where your dirty little mind had gone?”

Fuck, she was she blushing?

She was blushing.

He got into a mirror stance, and instead of holding the sword up in front of his torso, he changed his grip, angling the sword back.

“What are you doing?”

“You want a piece of me, Sunshine?” And he made a motion with his fingers that should’ve been “come and get it” but had her mind going down a filthier path.

“Don’t call me that.” She forced herself to stand because a part of her wanted nothing more then to charge forward.

“Doesn’t it fit your sunny personality?” And he repeated the motion of “come hither” and blast her if her thighs didn’t clench.

“I hate to tell you this, but first thing Aikidokas are taught is that an attack always leaves you open.”

He tilted his head and studied her, deliberately let her see his gaze sweeping her body.

“Is that your way of saying you want me to come get _you_?” Was he trying for innuendo or did her brain suddenly short?“I won’t go easy on you, Sunshine. Don’t want you crying if you can’t take the heat.”

Which of course had her murmur, “Try me”.

With grace and power of a beast, his speed a blur, he _moved_ , the sheer terrifying impact of his sword charging against her, and only instinct had her blocking, parrying, stepping back under the rain of thrusts and strikes. And since she couldn’t keep up much longer, she did what she should’ve done before instead of trying to match his strength.

She used her training.

At his next strike, she sidestepped and whirled around, aligning their swords together, tangling the blades. Energy and motion fused into one movement, and since they were going the same direction now, all it took is a slight step and knee bend to overbalance him and send him careening forward in a truly spectacular crash.

The clapping and the catcalls made her realize she hadn’t noticed several attendees cozying up in the front row.

“What the fuck was that?” No more innuendo, just annoyance now. And since she gave him a little shrug as if to say _“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he charged at her again._

This time, she had prepared. Slowed her breathing. Softly focused on the center mass of him, his limbs, his motion. With his sword angled back, he need to bring up his arms to strike for the best impact.

Exactly the opening she needed. Another pivot just before the angle of his sword, leading him forward but just out of his reach, and just as he followed her and overbalanced, she put her hands on him and shoved.

Up and then back, exactly the same way his sword would have been swinging. Worth with the crash and the subsequent array of cussing from stage left.

WIth more whistles and clapping, she took a bow, complete with a hand flourish. As one should, after defeating a monster.

“Not exactly canon, but I ship it.”

Rose busted in from one of the side doors, one hand holding a tablet, the other, her phone.“Loving this, all of it. You two will be the highlight of the day. And you all—“ she turned to the whispering attendees who made themselves comfortable in the red seats, “shoo. There’s a few author release parties on the second floorFree alcohol and books. You can catch these two tomorrow with no spoilers.”

“What the fuck,” Ben stalked to the center of the stage, as the loookielooks filed out, “do you think you’re doing?”

Why in blasted hell did she find him so ridiculously attractive? And because heat seemed to spread, over her limbs, over her belly, down into her sex, she used the reprieve to chug down some water.

Then more cussing, this time from Rose. “Hey can you help me sort this AV mess? They’re fighting over the adaptor cables.”

The lights on the stage flared and shimmered down, the red seats now plunged into darkness. “I’m gonna leave the stage lights on,” it came like a voice from God, somewhere above and everywhere. “Flip em off when you guys are done?”

“Thanks Finn! Okay you two, I’m gonna lock the door so nobody else comes in a spoils the scene tomorrow. Try not to kill each other?”

“I’m gonna grab something to eat.” The man playing with the lightSwords clumsily jumped off the stage and followed Rose out, leaving them alone on the dimly lit stage.

The heat?

Somebody must’ve turned it up when they turned off the lights.

“This is,” He seemed larger in the scarce beams of lights, the red one casting his face into an eerie glow,“Complete bullshit.”

“It’s just using your energy of motion-“

“I know what fucking Aikido is!”

Precious, absolutely precious. Perfect revenge for having her past dragged out for everyone to see.

“If you did, you wouldn’t keep falling down.”

That was the last word she got before he advanced, stalking her, slowly, deliberately. Predator playing with prey.

This time, the strikes weren’t uncontrolled. He must’ve had some training, and the combo of strategy and power had her pulse pounding in her chest, trying, and this time failing to match his rhythm and direction, unable to unbalance him again.

But there, an opening, an opportunity to take him down. And like a fool, she overshot, was spun around and pressed flush against his chest, his lightSword across her throat, a heavy arm across her belly.

And a definite erection hot against her arse.

And because she was breathing so hard, because of the pulse pounding in her ears, she pushed right backinto him.

“Give up? The whisper caressed the sensitive shell of her ear, the hard press of his cock scalding through both their clothes.

Because a part of her really wanted to do exactly that, Rey shoved an elbow back and had the satisfaction of hearing him grunt as bone met shoulder.

This time she was the one who charged, that overshot vital step, and all but felt the hum of energy as his motion fused with hers and she tumbled forward,went down on both knees and forearms, his huge heated frame on top of hers.

No idea when she dropped her lightSword. No idea when he got rid of his. She only knew the pounding of her pulse, the answering harsh intakes of his breath. The way his lips caressed her nape, the way he took a long drawn out inhale, as if her scent was something to be savored.

She dropped her head to give him more and all but shook beneath him. The hot length of him pushed against her buttocks, and because she was crazy, beause she could think of nothing but him filing that empty ache, she snapped her hips back with a moan.

“Tell me. To. Stop.”

Was that a plea or prayer? That whip of velvet on her skin had Rey trembling more, his hands now over hers, fingers entwined.

“Tell me to stop.” A broken voice this time.

Their harsh breaths were the only sounds in the sparse lights, red and blue beams pooling around them, their bodies somewhere in between, in shadows.

“Don.’t.” She managed. “Don’t stop.”

And she was yanked up so her weight rested on her haunches, chorded arms trapping her against that muscled frame. Hot lips found her neck, teased the skin under her ear, teeth scraping at sensitized skin.

“That’s what you want? For me to fuck you brainsless?”

_God yes._

“Isn’t it what _you_ want?”

“To fuck your brainless? Yeah. Ever since you looked down your nose at me.”

“I didn’t—“ A giant hand closed gently around her throat.

“Didn’t you?” He whispered right against her ear. “Challenged me. Teased me. Let’s if you can take what you dish out.”

She should’ve said something snarky or sophisticated, except her brain had frizzed. Instead, she whimpered—fucking whimpered—and lether head fall back against his shoulder as Ben pushed a large palm past her leggins and delved into her heat.

“No no, Sunshine,” he said when’s she tried to close her thighs around his wrist to increase that delicious friction. “Keep that pussy open for me.”

“I hate,” she managed, eyes fluttering close with an orgasm already embarrassingly close, “when people call me that.”

“Do you?” A long finger slid between her folds, light enough to have her moan. “What do you prefer? Baby?” A deeper stroke this time. “Angel?” A slide into her had her clenching around the sudden erotic fullness. So good, so not nearly good enough. “Sweetheart?” And he circled a single fingertip over her clitoris, drawing another moan that ended on a scream. “Sweetheart it is,” he whispered and increased his tempo, circling over the already spasming knot.

Shuddering, she tried to push her hips into his hand, seeking more pressure, held tight between the hard torso at her back and the thick arm around her waist.

Both of her hands closed on his wrist.

Faster, harder strokes, until she was pushed past the edge into a screaming orgasm.

“I knew it.”

Rey could barely make out the words.

“I knew you’d be a screamer. Gods, you’re hot.”

She still didn’t have the breath to answer, melting into the arms that pressed her close.

“What about you?”

That dark chuckle had her thighs clenching again.

“I can wait the two minutes it’ll take to drag you to my room.” Then, “If you want to.”

Who gave him the right to be so fucking hot?

“Why not here?”

That couldn’t have been her who spoke.

She’s never done anything like that and the taboo combined with the adrenaline only added to her returning fire.

“Here?”

Well look, finally she got him speechless. She pushed her arse against him once again and wiggled for effect. “Door’s locked. Lights out,” she murmured, and through the surging of blood in her veins, shemay have heard “where the fuck have you been all my fucking life,” before he gently pushed her forward, so that she once again rested on her forearms and knees.

“Wanna be fucked on the stage, Sweetheart?” Warm gigantic hands pulled and tugged on her leggins barring her to the lights. Then...

_Then._

His mouth.

God, that beautiful talented mouth pressed between her folds, his hot breath, his groan of satisfaction rekindling the hunger in her blood. “Gonna fuck you so good, you won’t be able to walk,” he finally murmured, and cool air kissed her skin as paper rustled.

Then he pressed against her, a tentative glide, and finally, _fucking finally_ entered in one smooth stroke.

Goosebumps broke out on her skin. Rey shivered around him, reveling in the fullness of him inside her. Slow strokes, so smooth, gliding in and out, sending sparks of fire through her veins.

“Like this?”Leaning over her, he braced himself on one elbow by her head, her hand clutching his, and she laid her forehead over a muscular forearm as he pulled out again. “Or...” he changed the angle slightly, pressed into her and sent an avalanche of white hot pleasure searing her skin. “Like this?”

Her hitched breath was all the answer he needed. “Sing for me Sweetheart,” he murmured into her ear, and fucked her in steady rhythm, hips slamming against hers, the sounds from where their bodies joined almost as filthy as her pleas.

“Faster,” she managed in this blissed out swirl of sensation. “Please, Ben. Faster.”

“Any faster and I’m gonna come. This is too fucking good.”

She bucked against him, meeting his thrusts with a loud keen. “Please. You can fuck me again. Any time, I swear. Faster. Please.”

“Again?” Dangerous voice so harsh against her ear. “You’ll let me have this sweet cunt any time I want it? Let me take you up to my room and eat you out and fuck you again?”

“Yes. Yes, please. More.” Faster tempo, hard snaps of his hips.

“Let me feel you then. Come on my cock.”

She didn’t know if she could, not after that orgasm he just gave her, but Rey reached down with her free hand, and with grunts of encouragement in that rough voice, with the pounding of his cock into her, she shattered again around him again, squeezing him as he gasped and emptied into the condom.

For a moment, nothing existed.

For a moment, all Rey heard were their rapid fire breaths.

Then a groan—was that her or him?—when he pulled out and tied off the condom. Then a moan—definately her, as she was wrapped into thick arms and pressed against his torso once again.

“You know,” his breath caressed her ear. “We didn’t even kiss.”

All but laying back against him, head resting back against a muscular shoulder, Rey snickered. “All the antis will be scandalized.”

“Fuck em,” he murmured, and nibbled on her neck, teeth gently grazingsweat-dampened skin. “You’re delicious.”

Gods, was he rocking her? Amazing. Soothing. Loving somehow. Completely unlike the beast of the man she had just fought.

“Leia probably didn’t mean this when she sent me here to meet likeminded people,” she murmured with her eyes closed. “Although, I take it back, she probably did. Luke Sensei would be scandalized.”

It took a minute. Maybe several of them before she realized something changed, the air going completely, horribly still around them.

When he didn’t make a single move to protest her detangling herself from his hold, she knew something has gone completely wrong.

“You...” Clear words, as if cut from a fire edged weapon. “You know Skywalker?”

She understood the question. She simply didn’t understand the furious tension underneath.

“Yeah, he’s the top Aikido master—”

“Fuck! Fuck my life. Fuck you.”

After everything, after screaming in orgasm, after the filthy beautiful words he whispered in her ear, this outpour of repeated fucks filled her with icy dread.

Because she still didn’t understand, Rey tried for nonchalance while tugging her clothing back in place. And blast it all, she was ridiculously wet, all but dripping into the fabric.

Ben?

It was like nothing ever happened, short for a furious stalk to the trash can just below the stage.

“My mother sent you?” Cold and flat voice, eyes of a stranger now, a stranger that looked at her as if she were nothing. As if what happened between them had been beneath him all along. “Befriend the prodigal son? She tell you to use whatever means necessary? Fuck my ever fucking life.”

First principle of combat:shut off the ego and figure out the direction of your opponent. Then, unbalance them. “Is that what you think happened here?” She kept her voice quiet and calm.

She locked away the rage of tears for later.

“Don’t hold back now. What did she promise if you got me to come back?”

And that’s when she recognized him.

Ben.

The teen in so many of the family photos Luke kept in the dojo. The one Leia always spoke about with regret.

The one who stared at her as if she had intentionally betrayed him.

“She bought the con ticket and paid for my hotel room. To celebrate my first book.” A horrible realization already spread it’s tendrils through her body, the age old adage she’d learned from Plutt that no gift ever came without a price.

“I fucking knew it.” The snarl had her all but rocking back. “She went so far to suggest... this... ?” He waved a hand at her, the crimson floodlight leeching his face of color save for that demon red. “Greatimprovising, Sweetheart.” The word pierced her heart. “Oscar worthy performance. You can give her all the lurid details. You can also tell her I’m NEVER fucking coming back.”

With that he banged his fist to slam open the door and lefther in a puddle of ice cold saphire light.

***

Fuck his ever fucking loving life.

It wasn’t enough that he tried his damnest to live without the shadow of his family. He didn’t tell anyone he was an Organa, much less a Skywalker.

Solo, for all the good his father did him.

Solo. Anonymous.

Alone.

He didn’t need anyone slithering up to him and offer him a break because of family connections.

His body burning with this angry mix of post-orgasmic afterglow and devastation, with a steadily growing spike of guilt, Ben pushed through bench presses that guaranteed to kick his ass tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Fuck his life.

And because underneath the rage burned the hot pain of betrayed, he did the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do again.

He called his fucking mother.

“Congratulations,” he said just as he heared a sleepy “Ben?”

Time difference. Right.

“Your up plan nearly worked. I got close to the girl you handpicked.She really was perfect. I honestly didn’t think you’d get this low.”

“Ben? Han, wake up. Ben, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

He missed her fucking voice. That flat smokers voice from cigarettes she always tried to hide because Senators (and American Royalty) weren’t supposed to have vices.

“Your little plant? She was a good one. Or did she call already to complain?”

“Ben.” This time her voice came with a steel edge. “Did you meet Rey?”

“As if you don’t know already!”

He would’ve thrown the phone into the full length mirror, except he’d done enough damage for the day. “Consider her a fucking ten. Perfect Skywalker bride. Too bad my ass won’t be showing up for the wedding.”

“Ben. Stop for a minute.”At least she didn’t tell to calm down. “I’m trying to understand what happened. You met Rey?”

“Of course I fucking met Rey. Jesus, did you also ... did you pay off Bazine?”

The pause of silence told him everything he already suspected. “You won’t get a damned return on your investment.”

He’d dip into his savings and fucking pay her double. Triple. He’d shut this shit show down right now and get Bazine to come back.

“Benjamin Bail Organa Solo.” Fuck, he hated that tone. That “shit is serious and your ass needs to listen” connotation. “Rey had nothing to do with anything. You have every right to be angry for whatever’s happened, but your anger is with me. Is it so wrong to want to see you stop making foolish choices and settle-“

He hung up.

No satisfaction in pushing a damned button, but at least he didn’t have to listen any more. _When will you make something of yourself, something respectable? When will you settle down, take over the family business? You’re almost thirty, time to think about children._

Hell, she probably already had an appropriate society wedding all planned out.

 _Rey had nothing to do with anything._ Fuck his ever loving life.

He did more chest presses—anything to relieve the tight bands of guilt around his lungs—when his phone rang again. He almost did throw the second hand IPhone into the mirror, except he first looked at the caller ID.His mother, though a force of nature, hadn’t mastered technology enough to spoof a call.

“What?”

“You left all that equipment on the stage?”

 _Fuck._ “Yeah.” Then. “Hey, is Rose there?”

A shuffle, then. “Hey! How’d it go?”

Okay she didn’t tell Rose. He had no qualms going against his mother, but Rose with her fierce eyes was not somebody he was wiling to cross.

“Uh. Good. Actually I was gonna ask if you had Rey’s cell, I forgot to go over something with her.”

“Oh. Uh. you know, I’m not sure if it’s okay for me to give that out, but she’s in room 337 if you want to call her on the hotel line.“ Did he hear a giggle? Most definately a smothered giggle.

Was _everyone_ trying to set his ass up with this girl?

Who was admittedly perfect.

The perfect girl.

Who wasn’t afraid of his bullshit.

Who...fuck ...he royally fucked up.

Well, he could at least be a god damned adult about it and apologize. Hell maybe she would understand. _What the fuck would she understand, she’s an orphan and you throw your meddling mother problem at her?_

Except even as he said this, he took the stairs two steps at a time.

And when she opened the door after several gut wrenching moments, her eyes red rimmed, her hair wrapped in a towel, his heart plopped right out of his chest and at her feet.

“Hey.”

“Ben.” Cool, collected. Almost calm if one didn’t see the fury and _hurt_ underneath. And fuck his life, he was sorry for the hurt.

“Uh.. Can I come in?”

She frowned and looked at him as if he were a bug under her shoe. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Fine.” They could do this in the hallway. Fuck, they screwed in an empty auditorium, they could have a normal conversation. “Look, I’m sorry. I fucked up.”

“You did.”

Was she... was she mocking him? Was that sarcasm? The look on her face stayed deadly earnest. And somehow, Ben got the idea if he moved any closer, her fist would make a close acquaintance with his face.

“My mother is... persuasive. I honestly though-“

“I know what you your thought.” In another huge tshirt bulking over that lighte frame, she looked adorable and young, and cold, and weary. So fucking weary.

“I made you cry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Girls cry when some arsehole fucks them and takes off.”

So cooly said. So broken.

“I’m....” Fuck. Well, he had to take the consequences. Fucking Skywalker called it. _Someday you’ll say things you won’t be able to take back._

“I already texted Bazine, hopefully she can come back tomorrow and you don’t have to deal with anybody from my family again.”

“Excuse me?”

This was the first emotion he had heard since she opened the door. He got the distinct feeling he fucked up again, but this time, Ben had no idea why.

“Bazine is the... other actress, yes? The one set to be Kira?”

A voice in his head sounding remarkably like Han told to abandon ship. “That’s right.”

“So let me get this straight.” That accent shone through loud and clear. “Your mother arranged for me to meet you. And according to you, that included ‘whatever means necessary’.” She hooked her fingers into airquotes. “And after I wasted several hours of my life, you took it upon yourself to get back whatever girl that ditched you. And you never once troubled yourself to ask if I wanted to continue playing the part.”

Did she just call whatever they just did a waste of time?

Not that he blamed her.

“I just thought-“

“You just thought I wanted nothing to do you or your whole family? You’re correct there.” Prim, proper and ice cold. “Your drama isn’t my business. But I spent three hours tolerating your shite. And I would love the opportunity to beat the crap out of you tomorrow.”

“You want to perform. With me. Tomrorow.”

The rising eyebrows promised no good things. “Did I stutter just now?”

She wanted to fight him on stage? That made no sense, but..

“Sure.” If that was what she wanted, she could have her way. “We’re on tomorrow. You’re on, I should say.” Maybe all wasn’t lost. Maybe he could still salvage something. “Do you want to get something to eat? The place downstairs—“

“Thank you Ben,” she murmured, in that quiet tone that had frost rising through his veins. “I’m afraid I’m overtired. See you tomorrow?”

_Shot down._

“Yeah. Good night.”

She closed the door right in face.

And fuck him, he deserved that.

***

Tomorrow she would fly back home and quit her job.

Tomorrow she would tell her mentor, her most favorite person in the world, the person who encouraged her to dream, that she would _never again_ be a blasted pawn in their family drama.

Today?

With makeup concealing the dark circles on her skin, wraps tied around her biceps and hair up in those same three warrior buns, today, she would be Kira.

And she would kick BenSolo’s ass.

The lack of sleep would only make her edgy. Luke always said anger was additive—fucking Luke, did he know too?

She would need to quit the dojo just the same, because for once, she she wouldn’t escape the photos on the walls; and two, she seriously considered decking her beloved Sensei.

For now, she was fresh out of tears. Rey knew herself, knew she needed time to process, to grieve. So she did what she always had in these types of situation and shut down.

Everything, _everything_ , was shoved into a chest and all locked up. On the surface, she was still Rey, cheerful, bright, kickass, Rey. Once she got home, she’d spend several days in bed with tubs of icecream.

She’d already asked Kaydell to stock up on the Mint Chocolate Chip.

“Are you one of those method actors?”

The lady adjusting her costume peered at her from under the coke-bottle classes, the shine of her black hair catching the overhead lights.

For a moment, Rey got a sense of deja vu, as if she’d seen her—Maz her lanyard said—before somewhere.

“I’m not an actor.”

“Hm. That’s what some of them do, when they have an emotional scene coming up. They psych themselves up, like what you’re doing.” She fiddled with the crossover wraps of thecostume, tightening the fabric over her collarbones.

“I’m... you know a lot of actors?”

“That’s my job. “More tugs over her ribs. “I keep their clothes looking good and don’t complain when they get comfortable on set and need me to let seams out.” She snorted to herself as if it were some sort of joke.“That one you’re doing the scene with? Real contradiction. All angry on the outside. Big softie on the inside.”

“He’s an arse.” But she didn’t want to think of him.

Not the way he whispered to her. Not the way he fucked her. Not the way he held against him, rocking. Soothing. Tender.

She shoved that memory deep and forced her lips to open in a sunny smile, as if calling him an arse had been a joke.

“Sounds like you’ve already met him.” Maz moved on to fabric around her waist, quick fingers tugging on the fabric tape, letting the tails flare loose. “Can’t help but feel for the kid though.”

She wasn’t going to ask. _She wasn’t going to ask._ “What do you mean?”

“Trying to live by his own rules. Not using his family as a way to get advantage. He could easily get top billing if he used his connections, but he wants to do it his own way. Gotta admire that.”She shrugged. “You’re all ready girl.”

Alone, Rey took several minutes, kneeling down to breathe.

Compassion. You always had to have compassion for your opponent. Compassion was the honorable thing to do, but also allowed you to understand where they have been, how they would go to counter their movements.

“Ready for you!”

With that, Rey opened her eyes and went on stage to for an epic fight with Kylo Ren.

**

The Force connected them, through space and time. The background screen already played the sights and sounds of crashing waves, the smoke making her eyes water.

Blinking, Rey kept her breaths steady, and under the floodlights, in the darkened auditorium, amidst the murmurs and the cheers, Kira ignited her lightSword in a flare of sapphire blue.

Music swelled around her, obscuring all other sounds. Everything but his enormous presense, the sweep of that dark cloak, the mask concealing his features.

A part of her wanted to see his eyes.

A part of her was glad she wouldn’t have to.

A splash of red over the black—the crimson light of his own sword.

And fuck if that deep melodic voice didn’t count off the choreography inside her head to mess with all her senses.

Block block, parry. Step behind, thrust. He seemed to be holding back again, and the deeper they got into the dance, the more she let the anger seep through, the harder she swung, the more satisfaction she got every time the lightSwords crashed with Finn’s amplified grinding sound of lasers.

Too bad the props folks couldn’t add the sparks.

He took the hits with that same stoic silence, and blast it, she really wanted to see the face he hid under the mask.

Last night? After that spectacular let down, he had seemed genuinely sorry.

As if she cared.

As if having a family—a family she sometimes let herself pretend was hers—had been such a damned burden.

She parried a weak thrust, and FUCK, she really wanted that clash of swords.

She needed him angry.

She needed this anger to match her own, to leech it out of her body.

To take some of that betrayal and give it back.

_Great improvising, Sweetheart._

His voice raging in her head, Reye sidestepped and sent him crashing down.

Music swelled after a short and sudden silence. Then clapping and whistling broke through—the crowd on their feet, phones flashing, shadows hollering her—Kira’s—name.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice, so odd, distorted by the mask.

“Improvising.” She countered his strike again, and because she could, angled her sword and did a Matix “come here” gesture with her free hand.

She could see why he liked acting. The crowd’s claps and chants washed over her in a heady combination of adrenaline and, she might as well admits it, latent lust.

Maybe she just got off on fighting.

Or maybe, she got off on fighting _him_.

“That’s not part of the scene.” He attacked again, his enormous form possessing grace a man this large shouldn’t command.

“Use the Force.” And she sent him to the ground again, watching in amazement as he rolled (on the wooden floor—she hoped that hurt like a bitch tomorrow) and once again regained his footing.

And the claps and and whistles broke through the musicwhen he ripped off the mask and shook out that no-right-to-be-perfect hair.

“The Force?” He advanced again, this time his sword angled back, the strikes less showy but more balanced. “Or Skywalker’s Aikido?”

He kept his voice low, under the music, just for her. And damn if that didn’t make her want to break out in tears.

Because fuck, wasn’t that just perfect. The first person she felt any sort of a connection with, the first person who both enfuriated and energized her, who pulled her outside of herself, had to be someone she had been pushed to. Used. A pawn.

“I’m sorry your family doen’t see you,” she managed through hard panting breaths. The smoke really messed with her watering eyes.

“It doesn’t matter.” He advanced again, and Rey sidestepped, moving with him. Except this time, he wasn’t performing. This time, it was clear how much on equal footing they were as opponents, because he twisted, pressed his sword against hers and loomed, using the pressure of her own defense to keep her still under his gaze. “I can’t tell you how ridiculously sorry I am. For everything.”

Because there was no point to match her strength against him, she did the next best thing and kicked him in the gut.

Outside the scene, outside the bright lights and crashing waters, somewhere in the dark, the crowd screamed her name.

“I know what’s it’s like to be used. And I get if you never want to see me or my family again. But Rey,” he advanced again, playing the role of Kylo, attacking and letting her use his anger and his strength against him. “I felt something with you.” Another thrust. Anotherparry. “It terrified me when I found out.”

She could’ve used the line. How easy would it be to throw her sword down and utter _Don’t be afraid, I feel it too?_

And truth be told, she was afraid. That this fleeting moment, a moment _arranged_ by his family could mean something regardless how it started.

Except to Leia, and probably to Luke, she really was nothing.

Nothing but a pawn to get him back.

“Just get this over with,” she muttered and when Kylo advanced on her again, his sword held high and leaving his side open, she swung right into his ribs, twisted to hook the blade under his arm and sent him flying.

He... flipped. In the air. Boots up, head down.

And fell with a deafening crash, flat on the middle of the stage.

He didn’t move,a dark long shadow in front of raging waters.

One second. Two.

The crowd stayed silent, although the tension coiled thick.

Three seconds.

Four.

She threw down her sword and ran to him.

The crowd surged onto their feet, watching and waiting and still silent. Nobody certain if this was part of the performance or if he actually hurt himself on stage.

She knelt against his side, leaned over. Brushed that beautiful hair out of his face.

Okay.

 _Okay_ he was still breathing.

And still, he didn’t move.

“Ben?”

Nothing.

No, this couldn’t be happening.

“Ben!”

Endless heartbeats. Then—

“Kiss me.”

Did he say that? Did his lips just move?

“Kiss me,” he murmured, eyes still close. “Give the antis something to bitch about.” Then, “Please.”

And beause her heart hammered in her throat, because this was rediculous and crazy, and because it was a brilliant way to end the scene, Rey placed her mouth on his.

Soft at first, slow. Just tasting. Just feeling, exploring. Tasting the rough warm texture of his lips, the softness of them. The scruff of him against her chin. And when his hand gripped his and she helped him sit up, Rey gazed into his eyes and kissed him again, deeper this time, tasting the dark promise of something deeper.

Then she was in his arms while the crowd exploded. But it was fine, she was safe, held in his embrace, his heart pounding against her own.

“Rey.”

She shivered at the longing in his voice.

“I fucked this up. I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m still asking.”

She pulled back, searching that beautiful face.

Smiled.

Kissed him again when Ben smiled back.


End file.
